My name, or not my name.
Just a small word, an open sound
Enclosing all I am, or not.
I’ve heard it a million times before,
spoken from lips forsaken
Addressed to me, or not.
I didn’t really know what it meant
Until you baptized me again, with the same
Word that everyone calls me years now.
You called me Anna
and only then I felt
This was my name,
that word was me
Nothing less, so much more
Addressing me down to the core.
Undressing me from all the wrong sounds
Wrong tones, leaving me naked and reborn.
With all known meanings meaning wrong.